


An Immortal Loneliness

by FrogSpawn



Series: Septiplier/Danti One-Shots [16]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Blind Date, Coffee Shops, Cold Weather, Curses, Immortality, M/M, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrogSpawn/pseuds/FrogSpawn
Summary: "So," Damien began after Sean was done readjusting himself, now in a long-sleeved shirt and beanie, "You're awfully Irish."Pausing and mouthing what just came out of Damien's mouth, Sean tipped his head back and started to laugh. Not just the bubble of giggles that often happened, the full bodied laughter that shook his shoulders and cramped his abs. It was infectious, the gasping sound, so much so that Damien even found himself joining in before righting himself and clamping his mouth shut, a light hue of pink invading the pale expanse of his cheeks."That-" pushing words out in between fits of laughter, eyes watering and voice wavering, "That's what you say to break the ice?"
Relationships: Darkiplier/Sean McLoughlin, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Septiplier/Danti One-Shots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1426423
Kudos: 21





	An Immortal Loneliness

Adjusting his suit jacket for the fifth time that hour, Damien muttered underneath his breath about the temperature in 'these bloody places'. It wasn't that it was particularly hot – in fact by all standards it was rather frigid within the mostly empty coffee shop – but he was used to frost forming on his brow bone when he began to sweat whiling splitting wood to keep the ravenous fire from dying out, not the mildly chilly weather of November within a city where the heat from all of the street lamps alone could melt the surrounding frost.

Despite the cold, it was fascinating to observe his surroundings. Virtually the entirety of the environment was unfamiliar to him, vastly different to what it was when he was at his prime. Marbled stone floors, vast halls of murmuring guests adorned in their finest garments, towering chandeliers crafted from silver, diamonds and opals were exchanged for scuffed wood and brick bared proudly, a small group of barely conscious people silent save for the undignified slurps as they gulped their steaming beverage and clouded bulbs that flickered every time the coffee machine booted up and released a series of whirring shrieks. If it were up to him, he would have gladly gone back to sparkling halls full of dancing couples; tall glasses of positively icy champagne over perilously-sweetened caffeinated drinks any year. However that was many ages ago where society was almost unrecognisable from the one of the present, and mulling over it would simply provide him with a deeper hatred for the curse that he has been bestowed with.

He was broken from his displeased musings when the bell of the door clattered quietly, the melodic note echoing off of the brick walls. A lanky man walked in, head and body wrapped in thick layers of wool and cotton. Brown hair poking out from a grey beanie, pasty skin exposed between the cracks of a dark coat and trousers. They were hunched, huddled into the fluffiness of their maroon scarf as their hooded eyes searched the floor of the cafe. Damien watched with rapt attention as he spotted the counter and all but ran over, his order for a strong black coffee passing cracked lips as the blonde barista poured the steaming beverage into a mug.

Damien felt himself rise to his feet before he consciously decided to do it, eyes glued to the man by the till. Even through the covering of material, he could make out the curve of his hips and arse, the small waist through the bagginess of the hoodie.

As if sensing the piercing gaze of maroon eyes on the back of his skull, he turned minutely to have a peek, pausing when he actually saw Damien. It wasn't an odd occurrence for him; his appearance would come across as intimidating and odd to anyone who wasn't familiar with him. Dark suit contrasting ashy toned skin, an almost violent gaze that was near constant from his rich eyes, muscles bulging from behind the thin sheets of silk and satin of his shirt. This was to say nothing of the way that his thin lips curled into a contemplatively menacing expression, exposing thin, white teeth that more resembled fangs than anything else.

Damien rose, striding over to the other, eyes fixated firmly on his neck, before swooping before him in the queue and producing his credit card. It had been a pain to obtain so he was determined to use it at least once, and this was deemed an effective use of resources.

"His drink will be on me."

The blonde didn't even blink as she rang up the coffee and produced the pay pad. The man behind him just began to stutter out a few words, obviously stumped as what to do, when Damien held his card against the reader until it beeped. He would never get the hang of inserting his card and he would rather not flaunt his inexperience in front of the man.

While the barista moved back to the cups, Damien took the mug and wandered back to his table, the other following him like a lost puppy, confusion evident on his shadowed features. In spite of this, they settled down, and he took a sip of murky liquid, humming in contentment as it warmed his cold body.

"Am I correct in my assumption that you are Sean?" Damien asked with a sly grin, eyes sparkling in the low light, making Sean's heart stir. His ice-addled brain was slowly beginning to fully catch up to the situation, causing him to flush underneath his scarf. Dark eyes remained on him causing him to squirm underneath the intense gaze.

"Damien, then?" he pushed out through his embarrassment. Damien nodded through a deep chuckle, the sound causing Sean to wriggle more than he had before. His skin was already heating up and the coffee wasn't helping, the steam catching within the folds of his outfit and staying trapped.

As if noticing this, Damien began to talk again, his voice smooth and even, "You look warm. Perhaps you should take your jacket off?"

Despite the innocent suggest, or possibly because of, Sean nodded and began to unwind his scarf. Damien leant back in his seat, watching the display with hooded eyes, irises darkening as if imaging another scenario. Sean flushed simply thinking about it as he quickly put his scarf beside him and pulled his hoodie over his head.

"So," Damien began after Sean was done readjusting himself, now in a long-sleeved shirt and beanie, "You're awfully Irish."

Pausing and mouthing what just came out of Damien's mouth, Sean tipped his head back and started to laugh. Not just the bubble of giggles that often happened, the full bodied laughter that shook his shoulders and cramped his abs. It was infectious, the gasping sound, so much so that Damien even found himself joining in before righting himself and clamping his mouth shut, a light hue of pink invading the pale expanse of his cheeks.

"That-" pushing words out inbetween fits of laughter, eyes watering and voice wavering, "That's what you say to break the ice?"

Huffing softly, Damien mumbled something about it being true and working, before he adjusted his jacket again. A nervous tick if Sean had ever seen one.

"No, it's fine, funny, just... not what I was expecting." He smiled at the flustered man before him, delighting in the way that Damien's well-groomed eyebrow rose elegantly to perch on the beginnings of his forehead.

"What were you expecting?"

Sean's easy going smiled remained intact, however it grew more thoughtful at the question. Unknowingly, his forehead scrunched up with the draw of his eyebrows, which Damien thought was heart-achingly adorable. Too adorable than anyone had a right to be.

Finally Sean nodded, as if satisfied, "Well I guess something more charming. Thought out maybe. From your appearance you appear to be a methodical, well-groomed, a bit smoother. It's not a bad thing that you aren't – I probably prefer it this way anyway. Simply not what I would pin you as. Not so... that."

Damien seemed to be absorbing this slowly, worrying his lower lip with pointed teeth that Sean couldn't help but be drawn to. Without his consent, his mind began to wander to other situations where the teeth would be biting something else.

"I am slightly out of touch socially," Damien conceded reluctantly, sighing in resignation, "However I am sure the skill shall return to me with practice. The only reason it has fled me is due to my extended periods without human contact. It's been thousands of years since I have spoken to someone other than you."

Maybe they were tucked away as the mouth they occupied was filled with something else, or how the viscous white of him would hang the end of those points until the moistness of a muscle would wiped it off and gulp it down. He could practically taste it, salty and bitter.

"Sean?"

When Sean came around, Damien was regarding him with an extremely smug expression, eyebrows raised but a satisfied smirk firmly on his lips, "Is something distracting you?"

He nodded dazed, his senses returning to him. Nose filling with the scent of coffee reminded him of where he was, while also that his own coffee was probably cold by now. Damien inhaled softly, staring pointedly at Sean with twinkling eyes, "You know, if this is not an adequate site for our meeting, than we could move location? My house, possibly?"

Having regained his place in reality, Sean leant forward, avidly fighting the red that threatened to tint his cheeks in favour of an eyebrow raised and what he hoped was a seductive smile. "Well aren't you awfully bold? Not so awkward now."

With a wink, Damien reclined further, hand playing with the top button on his blazer, "You could say that I have lost my uncertainties. Maybe my subtlety as well, very likely to also have misplaced my self control. Although I scarcely had any of that to begin with."

Sean stood, raising and downing the rest of his chilled coffee, wincing as it slid down his throat, before collecting his discarded garments. "Shall we?"


End file.
